


In the Half-Light

by Jakathine



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dubcon Kissing, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Grooming, Kissing, M/M, Manipulation, Older Man/Younger Man, Pining, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8689255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakathine/pseuds/Jakathine
Summary: This fic is also available as a Russian translation here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/4980316 by Matthew_F_Jones





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [W półmroku](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8910007) by [WinchesterBurger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterBurger/pseuds/WinchesterBurger)



> This fic is also available as a Russian translation here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/4980316 by Matthew_F_Jones

Credence kept his head bowed obediently as he served the daily gruel meal to the children eagerly awaiting. Most of them ignored him, opting to focus on Mary Lou, his adopted mother, instead who placed each child under scrutiny for witch’s marks or misbehavior. 

They behaved fairly well, forming a winding line in the small house but a line nonetheless, with no one talking above a murmurer. He eyed every child that came up to the front of the line, a bowl in their hands with the Second Salemer leaflet tucked underneath. He was hoping for a sign of the Obscurus Mr. Graves had told him about but so far none of these children seemed to be the right one. It irked him that he couldn’t find the child and made him fearful of disappointing Mr. Graves. It was painful to see his face go from inquisitive to disappointed within seconds when Credence updated him on the lack of news. 

This evening seemed to be a bit better when a boy child no more than eight with bright eyes and soft voice refused to look at Mary Lou directly for very long. His mother’s eyes narrowed at the child and though she remained thin-lipped through the rest of the interaction Credence later saw her log into a booklet she kept the child’s name and a note to herself about inquiring further. A chill went up his spine and he quietly slipped away.

It was nearing late afternoon, perfect time for his usual recruitment sheet passout period before spot-checking for the next Second Salemer meeting spot. Credence grabbed up a pile of leaflets as he left, stuffing them into his pocket as soon as he was far enough away from the house and making a sharp turn into an alleyway that fed into a labyrinth he knew by heart.

He stopped at his usual place and rocked on his heels, waiting. The late afternoon sun dipped lower, casting the alleyway he was in into shadow.

In a swift woosh of the wind and a flurry of dark clothing Mr. Graves appeared, striding casually as though he hadn’t just appeared out of no where. His black hair fluttered in the breeze had swept in on before being swept back when he ran a hand through it casually. Credence was always taken with the man who was imposing despite being shorter than Credence himself when he stood his full height and exuded power. The air positively thrummed around him and Credence found it addicting.

“What is the news?” Mr. Graves asked, his voice warm and gentle. 

Credence moved closer to him, close enough to smell the musky cologne he wore that reminded him of cedar wood and spearmint and some other spicy aroma that Credence didn’t recognize, and breathed him in. At Mr. Graves’s expectant face Credence gave a small smile.

“There was a child today, around eight. He refused to look at my mother. No child does that...”

Mr. Graves worked his jaw in thought, “Do you feel that this one is the one?”

“I do not know,” Credence said, “I think maybe.”

“Can’t work with ‘maybe’ much, we must be certain before we act. Are you or are you not sure?”

“I'-I’m not sure,” Credence stuttered quietly, bowing back a bit in his uncertainty and unconsciously making himself smaller.

Patient as ever though, Mr. Graves only reached up a open hand to Credence’s face and cupped it, his thumb stroking over his cheekbone. Credence’s lower lip trembled from the gentle touch, always so welcoming and calm, and he leaned into it with desperation. Mr. Graves reached his other arm and wrapped it partways around Credence’s neck, drawing him into a close embrace so their chests were touching while the hand that had been on his face settled to his shoulder.

Credence soaked it up, pressing as close as he dared to get as much of the other man’s scent and warmth on him, and lavished in the feeling of a strong arm holding him securely in place.

“Mr. Graves...” Credence whimpered into Mr. Graves’s ear.

“What is it, Credence?” Mr. Graves asked, his fingers finding their way into Credence hair to massage at his scalp reassuringly, “What do you want?”

Credence murmured, stumbling over his words then stopped talking altogether. He wanted, _yearned_ , but found it difficult to voice over the sounds of everything crashing in his head. Mr. Graves leaned back far enough to use the hand that had settled onto Credence’s shoulder to take him by the jaw.

“Oh, Credence,” Mr. Graves smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners with a fondness that made Credence’s heart hurt.

Confident yet simultaneously soft lips met Credence’s own as Mr. Graves kissed him, the touch flitting and as Mr. Graves pulled back left Credence wanting more. His own desire taking over Credence stood a little straighter so he was taller and met Mr. Graves in another kiss, this time a bit more sloppy but still very passionate. Mr. Graves met him in the middle, the kiss rougher and with enough pressure that Credence felt himself moving backwards to have his back against the cold stone wall behind him.

Mr. Graves kept him pinned here and Credence felt no fear for once, only an overwhelming need for more. But he was denied that as Mr. Graves backed off and straightened his overcoat. The slight hitch in his breathing was undeniable and Credence quietly congratulated himself on that fact.

“I must go,” Mr. Graves stated, tilting his head to the side as if listening for something, “Keep me informed.”

Credence inclined his head, “Yes, sir.”

With that Mr. Graves turned away, the oncoming swoop of air rushing around and causing scattered newspapers to kick up as Mr. Graves disappeared once again in a flurry of clothing into thin air. 

Credence did do spot-searching and once satisfied returned to the house, reporting to his mother the new location before readying for bed. He touched his fingertips to his lips, recounting the heat and desire, as he looked at himself in the mirror. As he laid in bed he once again touched his lips and whispered Mr. Graves’s name to himself like a prayer before drifting off to sleep. 


End file.
